Gifted, A Donovan Circus Novel (7 page)

“Okay. But before I do, should I
keep it low or light to impress?” I asked her.

“You really have to ask me that
question around this group? The bigger, the better,” she whispered with a
smile. She started to walk over where the other girls sat in their chairs.

“All right, I’ll do it. Stand
back for a sec,” I announced to the guys.

“Show us what you got, lady!”
Bianca yelled from her chair. Finley and Brooklyn both crowed their approval.

My father and I had practiced
for weeks before I mastered this trick. I learned to control fire outside of my
own creation, as well as control flames in the air without physically touching
them. My father told me it was a rare talent; I practiced everyday since then
to beat the challenge, even after his new rules and his death. It had only been
small flames then, like from lighters or my father’s own hand. I could always
be better at it, so I pushed myself.

“Nikolas, throw a fireball at
Delia,” I said.

Delia stopped in mid-stride and
squeaked. “I beg your pardon?”

Nikolas gave me a weird look.
“Uh, are you sure about that? I mean, I know you can take the hit for her, but
you’re about ten feet away. Maybe you should get closer before I do that.”

“I’m not taking the hit. Just do
it.”

“Are you sure about this?” Delia
whispered frantically at me. I nodded.

“Trust me,” I whispered.

I warmed my palms as Nikolas
flicked his lighter and formed a large fireball. He gave me one last look, took
a deep breath, and threw it as hard as he could straight at her.

I waited a heartbeat, long
enough to have Delia feel the heat off it and hear her yelp, before I threw my
hands out towards her and upwards: a fireball of my own slammed into Nik’s,
forming a larger one. It flew up sixty feet and lit the night sky like a small
orbit of sun before I moved my hands to split it into three smaller pieces.
Then I made them dance—loops and swirls, flames flying off the edges like
firework sparks. I even pretended to juggle for a moment and heard laughter
from the group. I gritted my teeth in concentration, bringing my hands back together
and flinging the fire down directly onto the brush pile. Without hesitation,
the brush pile exploded into large flames and coated everyone in a warm yellow
light. Everyone cheered.

Delia, meanwhile, touched her
hair and clothes as though checking for singes. She looked surprised when she
found none.

“Holy fu—I would prefer
never to do that again, Lucy. I nearly wet myself,” Delia grumbled. She
smoothed her hair and cleared her throat.

I walked over to where everyone
now grouped. Keegan and Nikolas waited for me to meet with them while Finley
opened a cooler and passed out beers to everyone.

“How did you do that? Move fire
that wasn’t yours, I mean?” Keegan asked.

“Yeah it’s one thing to do
something like juggle with Keegan; I can touch his fire and hand it back to
him, but to control it on the air like that? You weren’t even close to it!”
Nikolas added.

“My father presented me a
challenge. It’s taken me almost ten years to perfect that move. I only truly
got the hang of it right before he died.” I neglected to mention that it’d been
even longer than that, since my dad put his foot down about fire. No need to
frighten Delia more or make them think I was bragging.

“I’ve never seen anything like
that from a Firestarter,” Nikolas said. “You’ve practiced that for ten years?”

“Well, he told me that it’s one
of the hardest things to learn. It’s an extremely rare talent that might prove
useful. Though he had me convinced to learn it when he said it was difficult to
master. There’s a trick to it, but I’m constantly working to improve. It takes
a lot of concentration and tires me out kinda quick,” I answered.

“That was amazing,” Keegan said.
“What’s the trick?”

“Maybe someday I’ll show you,” I
teased.

A broad grin crossed his face to
show dimples and my insides melted a little. “I hope so,” he said.

“Thanks,” I answered. “I’m not
really that great at it; I’ve seen my father do incredible things with fire.
But I hope I can get better.”

“You’ve got real talent as it
is,” Keegan replied.

“Yeah,” Nikolas agreed. “You
might be the best one here.”

For a second, I thought I
detected a hint of jealousy. Before I could confirm it, the moment was gone and
Nikolas gave me a high-five and a beer.

“This means we have a referee
for our matches, Keegan,” Nikolas said. “Lucy can control the fireballs that
get out of our reach so we can focus more on each other.”

“Good idea. Now we need to get
her to agree to a match with us once in a while,” Keegan said with a grin in my
direction.

Finley sat down next to Bianca
and motioned to the seats next to him. “C’mon Lucy, sit. It’s the last night we
can really relax ‘til the next city.”

I took a seat next to Delia.
Keegan sat down on the other side of me, our arms almost touching. We sat close
to hear one another; a warm glow from the bonfire doused everyone. I breathed a
sigh of relief. It wasn’t that I had impressed everyone there and proved my
worth. My hard work and all those years of practice were finally showing. I
could belong here all on my own.

“We meeting Angel tonight?”
Finley asked.

“We can visit the G-Top another
night,” Nikolas said. I gave him a puzzled look and he added, “It’s where some
of us hang out. Beer, cards, cigars, you know?”

“Good idea. I think Lucy needs
to get introduced in increments instead of all at once,” Delia said. “We do not
want any of those malakas scaring her.”

“Any who?” I asked.

“Malaka!” the group replied
together with gusto.

I cocked an eyebrow. They were a
little cheesy, but I liked silly. Finley spoke up first.

“It’s basically Delia’s Greek
word for idiots. She says it a lot, so get used to it.”

“It’ll become your favorite word
before long,” Bianca chimed in.

“It simply means that one is an
asshole,” Delia explained. “But sometimes we use it with each other and it is
just a term of affection. Like, um, “dude” or “buddy” or something, but it may
only be used with good friends. It is rude with outsiders.”

I nodded and took a sip of beer.
Malaka. I liked the way it rolled off the tongue. Bianca and Delia spoke softly
to one another; Brooklyn and Nikolas lit cigarettes and discussed new tattoos.
I stared at the fire and became mesmerized; I hadn’t felt this calm in a while,
especially not in the last week.

I let myself think about my
mother for only a second and my heart ached. I already missed her laugh. I
wasn’t ready; perhaps I never would be. I tore my gaze away from the flames to
look at the others.

“So what now, we sit and tell
ghost stories around the campfire?” I asked.

“Why, is that what humans do?”
Delia asked.

“Not all of them, but some.
Especially when they go camping. Scary stories in the woods creep people out.”

“There are plenty of true scary
stories. We don’t have to make up ghost stories,” Brooklyn said. She stared
daggers at the bonfire and the shadows on her face made her comment sound
sinister.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“None of them are here, but
plenty of gifted aren’t what you’d call friendly,” Nikolas said. “There was the
Transporter who tried to take one of our acrobats because he grew obsessed with
her. He fucking stalked her.”

“And the one who tried to spread
disease through our group to get to Sheffield after he couldn’t join us,”
Keegan said. “Lots of flu that week.”

“Or there’s…” Finley shot a
quick look at Brooklyn. “…Dr. Hardy.”

“We don’t talk about him,”
Bianca jumped in. She laid a hand on Brooklyn’s arm.

“Lucy can know who he is. It’s
not Hardy’s fault she’s crazy. It just didn’t work on her is all,” Brooklyn
said with a shrug. Even I could see she was trying to sound nonchalant.

“You don’t have to…” I said.

“I’ll tell you. My mother’s in a
mental ward of the gifted hospital.”

I paused mid-sip of my beer.
Tucked away from human eyes somewhere in the Midwest, there was a small,
special hospital specifically for the gifted community. It held things like the
mental hospital, where those who’d lost control or gone mad from their gift
stayed; the rehab center had two sections, ones for those recovering from
injuries and one for those recovering mentally; and of course several floors
that mimicked a regular hospital.

“My mom, she’s a Telepath, too.
She didn’t want her gift, though, never did. After years of saying so, a
scientist, Dr. Felix Hardy, told her he could cure her. He said he’d been
working on a cure for years and thought he finally had it. All she had to do
was let him inject her; she signed up on the spot.”

Brooklyn shifted in her chair
slightly and lit a cigarette before speaking again. Her dark eyes shone at me
like marbles and I fought off a twinge of anxiety. I probably didn’t care to
hear the end of this story.

“I wasn’t there for the
experiment, but whatever he’d done, it didn’t take. She can hear everyone even
louder and from further away. She can’t escape. All she did was hide in her bed
with music or earplugs and cry; after she tried to kill herself, she checked
into the institute. They can help with the noise. She hasn’t left there in
almost five years.”

“Do you blame him? Dr. Hardy, I
mean?” I asked.

“Sometimes. I never met him;
these are things I heard from her. I don’t know why it didn’t work if it’s
worked on others like he said. Other days I blame her for being so willing to
throw away her gift like that. We shouldn’t take it for granted. I have good
and bad days, but fuck, I’d never not be gifted.”

I suddenly liked Brooklyn much
more.

“So you guys knew my dad? I know
he came back a couple times a year to work with Sheffield,” I said.

Nikolas nodded. “Keegan and I
met him a couple times. We didn’t train or anything, though. He stayed with
Sheffield, mostly.”

“He passed his talent on,
though,” Keegan added with a motion in my direction. “I’ve never heard anyone
talk about him throwing a heat wave.”

“He said he never had the
patience for it,” I replied absentmindedly. My father always talked about how
he trained other Firestarters when he visited with the show. Why would Nikolas
and Keegan not know him personally if they’d been here for years?

“Lucy, another beer?” Finley
asked me. I nodded and he handed me another.

“I guess you’re not the only new
kid in town. Who was that guy earlier?” Bianca asked.

“What did Sheffield say his name
was? Gary?” Delia asked.

“Gabriel,” Brooklyn answered.
“He’s Rick’s nephew. He was here years ago, when we were tweens. I guess his
family left when he was around fifteen or sixteen, but I have no idea why. We
ran in different age groups so I didn’t know him.”

“Is he gifted?” Bianca asked.
Somewhere along our conversation, Bianca had slipped her hand into Brooklyn’s.
I’d never seen any two people look so comfortable with one another, except
maybe my parents.

Brooklyn shrugged. “No idea.
Rick’s always been a great worker, but he’s a very well built, muscular human.
If Gabriel has a gift, it came from another family member.”

“If he is gifted, it doesn’t
look like it’s a physical one. Nothing noticeable, anyways,” Finley commented.

“I guess we’ll find out. He
didn’t look thrilled to be here when Sheffield announced him,” Bianca said.

“I’m thrilled to be here, but
some people need to ease their way in,” I responded, defending both Gabriel and
myself.

“You’re in a circus. You’re
gonna get attention,” Brooklyn said matter-of-factly.

“What are your roles? Do any of
you have an act?” I asked.

“Nik and Keegan do,” Finley and
Bianca answered together. They shared a grin.

“Oh yeah? What do you do?” I
looked at Nikolas.

“We ride the motorcycle ball.”

“I thought that was typically
with two or three other people,” I said.

“Well, I light it on fire from
the inside out,” Keegan answered.

“Your bikes don’t blow up?”

Nikolas chuckled. “We have
talented mechanics.”

Keegan nodded. “Only we can’t
really risk it with nonflammable people. The other guys, they don’t like the
action so much. They like being with the clowns.”

Nikolas took a drink from his
bottle but nodded with an eye roll in agreement.

“Brooklyn has a sideshow,”
Bianca said, nudging her.

“It’s not an act in the Big Top.
I hang out by the games booth, offer to read people’s minds. It’s simple stuff
really—I ask them to think of a color, number, or animal and easily guess
it back to them. Funny how people think I cheat. Even funnier when people think
I’m for real.” Annoyance crept into her voice.

“Sorry to sound like a fool
here, but I haven’t worked with Telepaths before. What do you mean, funnier?
Wouldn’t that be a positive thing?” I asked.

She gave a wry smile. “Nope.
Most either look weirded out and wander away, demand their money back because
it’s cheating—”

“Or in that one kid’s case,
follow you around for three hours asking how he too can be a Telepath and
insisting she was wrong about everything he thought,” Bianca interrupted with a
laugh. “She had that same sour face all day. It was great.”

“Was that the same kid who kept
begging you for lottery numbers or something?” Fin asked.

“Nope, different one. Parents
need to watch their fucking spawn!” Brooklyn said, rolling her eyes. “Whatever.
I help with security, too. I roam up and down the benches and make sure no
one’s up to any funny stuff—you know, thinking to sneak backstage, steal
animals or try to sidewall into the show.”

“I’m in the animal act, but not
alone,” Bianca piped up. “I’ve got Henry with another girl and her dogs, then
there’s the horses, tigers, and elephants. I lead in with mine until the
handlers get their animals lined up and ready. But outside of the act, you know,
I help everyone out like magic acts or last minute props.”